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Showing the Ingratitude, Foolishness and Wickedness of the People, and how, when once infected with a bad Spirit, it returns with Difficulty to Common-Sense--Smiterlow, Lorbeer and the Duke of Mecklenburg--Fall of the seditious Regime of the Forty-Eight

The ecclesiastical affairs of Stralsund had assumed more or less regular conditions; the Gospel was preached in all the churches without opposition either on the part of the princes or of the council. Smiterlow had sanctioned the return of Rolof Moller. Nevertheless, peace was not maintained for long, Lubeck, Rostock, Stralsund and Wismar having revolted against their magistrates. In fact, at the death of King Frederick of Denmark, George Wullenweber,^[21] burgomaster of Lubeck, having for his acolyte Marx Meyer, decided to declare war upon Duke Christian of Holstein.

According to Wullenweber, the conquest of Denmark was a certainty; and inasmuch as the magistrates of Lubeck, belonging to the old families, looked with apprehension on the enterprise, they were deposed and sixty burghers added to their successors.

Marx Meyer was a working blacksmith with a handsome face and figure. Being a skilful farrier he had accompanied the cavalry in several campaigns, and his conduct both with regard to his comrades and the enemy had been such as to gain for him the highest grades. He was created a Knight in England and amassed a considerable fortune. His rise in the world filled him, however, with inordinate pride and vanity. Nothing in the way of sumptuous garments and golden ornaments seemed good enough to emphasize his knightly dignity. He had a crowd of retainers and a stable full of horses, for like the majority of folk of low birth, he knew of no bounds in his prosperity. Odd to relate, he was courted by people of good condition; women both young, rich and well-born fell in love with this, and it would appear that he gave them no cause to regret their infatuation. I have read a letter written to him by one of the foremost ladies of quality of Hamburg: "My dear Marx, after having visited all the chapels, you might for once in a way come to the cathedral." May his death be accounted as an instance of everlasting justice.

In June 1534 the councillors of the Wendish cities,^[22] apprehending a disaster and being moreover exceedingly grieved at this struggle against the excellent Duke of Holstein, foregathered at Hamburg to consider the state of affairs. Wullenweber, however, presumptuous as was his wont, became more obstinate than ever and rejected with scorn most acceptable terms of peace. Hence, the Stralsund delegate, Burgomaster Nicholas Smiterlow, addressed the following prophetic words to him: "I have been present at many negotiations, but never have I seen matters treated like this, Signor George. You will knock your head against the wall and you shall fall on your beam end." After that apostrophe, Wullenweber, furious with anger, left the council-chamber, made straight for his inn, had his and Meyer's horses saddled and both took the way back to Lubeck, where immediately after his arrival Wullenweber summoned his undignified council and the aforementioned sixty burghers, who between them decree in the twinkling of an eye a levy of troops; dispatching meanwhile to the council of Stralsund a blatant sedition-monger, Johannes Holm, with verbal instructions and a missive couched substantially as follows: "Wullenweber is zealously working to bring principalities and kingdoms under the authority of the cities, but the opposition of Burgomaster Smiterlow has driven him from the diet. In spite of this, the struggle is bound to continue, so it lays with you to act."

Nothing more than that was wanted to stir the whole of the citizens against Smiterlow. The Forty-Eight came to tender their condolence to Burgomaster Lorbeer who was secretly jealous of his colleague. Pretending to be greatly concerned, he exclaimed: "This is too much, impossible to defend him any longer." His hearers took it for granted that Smiterlow was left to their discretion, while, according to Lorbeer himself, the ambiguous words merely signified: "Smiterlow has so many enemies that I can no longer come to his aid."

At Smiterlow's return, the fire so skilfully fed by Lorbeer broke into flame. People hailed each other with the cry, "Nicholas the Pacific is here." The delegate had to deliver an account of his mission to the burghers summoned to that effect at six in the morning, at the Town Hall, with the city-gates closed and the cannon taken out of the arsenal and placed in position in the Old Markets The crowd poured into the streets, and at the Town Hall itself people were crushing the life out of each other. When Nicholas Smiterlow came to his statement that he had opposed Wullenweber's warlike motions, there was a hurricane of cries, curses and insults; it sounded as if they had all gone stark mad at once. It was proposed to fling the speaker out of the window; an axe was flung at the Councillors' bench and in endeavouring to intercept the weapon the worshipful Master Kasskow was severely wounded. One individual placed himself straight in front of the burgomaster. "You scum of the earth," he yelled; "did you not unjustly fine me twenty florins? Now it is my turn." "What's your name?" asked Smiterlow. "That's right," he said on its being given; "it was a piece of injustice, he ought to have had the gallows. I was sheriff at the time and the council instructed me to fine you twenty florins. My register of fines can show you that I did not keep them for myself, but spent them for the good of the city." His interlocutor wished to hear no more and disappeared in the crowd.

It should also be noted that the beggars who generally hung about the burgomaster's dwelling were all the while vociferating under the windows of the Town Hall. "Fling Nicholas the Pacific down to us," they shouted; "we'll cut him up and play ball with the pieces." One of the Forty-Eight having asked, "What do you think of it, my worthy burghers?" the rabble yelled, "Yes, yes," without the faintest idea of the nature of the question. Somebody thereupon observed, "Why are you shouting 'Yes'? Are you willing to hand over the public chest?" Thereupon there was an equally unanimous and stentorian "No." Unquestionably the devil had occasion on that day to laugh at the people in his sleeve.

This martyring of the first burgomaster, an eminent, virtuous man, who had, moreover, attained a certain age, was prolonged till seven o'clock at night. Finally, he received the order not to leave his quarters. Similar injunctions were inflicted on my father in his capacity of nephew by marriage to the burgomaster, and to Joachim Rantzow for having exclaimed, "Gently, gently; at least give people a chance to explain themselves."

The soldiers and sailors were enjoined at the sound of the drum to man the galleys, and a strict watch was kept. At night a strong squad encamped in front of Smiterlow's dwelling; the soldiers, among other pastimes, amused themselves with firing at the front door; the bullets passed out at the other side of the passage through a circular glazed aperture. There were many hours of anguish for the burgomaster, his wife and children, who expected at every moment to have their home invaded by the mob.

On the Monday of St. John they elected two burgomasters, namely, Joachim Prütze, the erewhile town clerk, an honest and sensible man, and Johannes Klocke, the actual town clerk and syndicus. Seven burghers were elected councillors; with the exception of Secretary Johannes Senckestack, who had had no hand in the thing, they were all honest, uninteresting folk, as simple-minded as they were upright and virtuous. Johannes Tamme, for instance, a worthy and straightforward man, replied to the artizans and others who came to complain of the bad state of business: "Make your mind easy; it will change now that seven capable people form part of the council." Antique simplicity indeed. Nicholas Baremann boasted of earning ten marks each time he left his home. One day he went into the cellar to look at a barrel of salt-fish, he was accompanied by a servant who was not altogether right in his head. In those days men wore round their necks a very narrow collar of pleated tulle. While the master was bending over the fish, the servant with one blow of his hatchet clean cut his head off. Instead of taking flight he quietly went back to his work. When interrogated about the motive of his crime, he replied that his master presented his neck so gently as to make the operation merely child's play. In spite of his unquestionable mental state, the murderer was broken alive on the wheel.

My father was practically imprisoned for fifteen months in his own house, whence resulted an enormous loss to his own business, for in view of the coming herring-fair at Falsterbo, in the province of Schonen,^[23] his cellar and hall were packed with Luneburg salt; there was also a considerable quantity of dried cod, besides a big assortment of cloth, and amidst all this he was forbidden to cross the threshold of his house and no one was allowed to come and see him. My mother was, moreover, pregnant at the time, and as the date of her confinement drew near my father asked for leave to take up his quarters with a neighbour until it was over. His petition was refused, and at the critical moment he found himself compelled to get into the adjoining house by the roof. He was also prevented from personally inviting the godparents.

George Wullenweber and his undisciplined followers opened the hostilities by sea and by land. In this bitter struggle the Duke of Holstein preserved the advantage, though he fought as one against two, but the Almighty was on his side. Humiliated by these reverses, with their prestige diminished and threatened with an ignominious fall, the fribbling authors of the war expected to save everything by substituting another chief for Wullenweber. After a week of negotiations the emissaries of Lubeck, Rostock, and Stralsund assembled at Wismar offered to Duke Albrecht of Mecklenburg the throne of Denmark. The act, drawn up in due form and signed and sealed by Lubeck, Rostock and Wismar was dispatched to Stralsund, the signature and seal of which was wanting to it. The fine phrases of the Lubeckian message got the better of the opposition of the council; the Forty-Eight broke open the casket containing the great seal, affixed it to the document and sent it back to Wismar.

Every rule had been strictly observed; the Duke of Mecklenburg invited the representatives of the cities for the next day to a banquet, at which the act was to be handed to him. But during the morning itself the delegates of Stralsund, under the pretext of wishing to examine the parchment, asked to look at it, and Christopher Lorbeer, borrowing a pocket-knife of his colleague, Franz Wessel, cut the strings of the Stralsund seal, after which they made off as far as their carriage would let them. They were half-way to Rostock while the other ambassadors were still waiting for them with dinner. Undeterred by this, Albrecht, accompanied by his wife, her ladies, servants, horses and dogs, took the road to Copenhagen, like a legitimate sovereign.

Lorbeer himself, his children, and the rest of his relations have sung in all manner of keys the resolute--others would say, the audacious--conduct he displayed on that occasion; nobody, whether townsman, rustic or alien was to remain ignorant of the feat; and to this day people keep repeating that Burgomaster Lorbeer, scorning all danger (non enim sine periculo facinus magnum et memorabile), made himself illustrious by this signal act, by this heroic exploit. If, however, we turn the leaf, what do we read? Qui periculum amat peribit in eo; real courage will never be confounded with reckless audacity. That the act was provided with the great seal of Stralsund is a fact known to the representatives of Lubeck, Rostock and Wismar, who handled the document on the strength of which, when ratified by the Forty-Eight, Duke Albrecht went and shut himself up in Copenhagen, where he sustained a siege, and practically obliged Stralsund to make the same sacrifices for him the other cities had made. Consequently, one has the right to ask: "Where was the advantage of detaching the seal?" If Lorbeer had utilized his energy in keeping in port vessels, soldiers and ammunition, then he would have rendered a signal service, and, besides, prevented the waste of much money. Do Lorbeer's admirers imagine that Duke Albrecht would not have avenged the outrage when once his throne was consolidated? The least he would have done was to close the Sound against us, and to hamper our commerce everywhere. Verily they are right, the citizens who keep on praising the mad trick of Lorbeer.

Burgomaster Smiterlow bore his enforced retirement with admirable patience. Instead of meddling with public affairs, he assiduously read the Holy Scriptures, and spent most of his time in prayer. He finally knew by heart the Psalms of David. As a daily visitor to his home, I can say that no bitter word ever fell from his lips. He often repeated, "They are my fellow-citizens; the Lord will move their spirit. It is my duty to suffer for the love of my children."

Our gracious prince, Duke Philip, sent to request the liberation of the burgomaster. The envoys were told that the answer would be sent to them to the hostel. The discussion was a very long one, after which they deputed the very host of the envoys, Hermann Meier, together with Nicholas Rode, the one as illiterate as the other, and both densely ignorant on every subject. Hermann Meier, who was a native of Parow, had amassed much property in cash, in land, and in houses. Being the owner of the two villages of Parow, he had practically for his vassals his uncles and his cousins, whom he ruled at his will. Nicholas Rode was a well-to-do merchant, but who had never associated with people of condition. Hermann Meier had undertaken to address the envoys, but he began to stumble at the first sentence, and finally, stricken dumb altogether, he left his colleague behind, rushed from the room, and went helter-skelter down the stairs. When he reached the yard, he fell altogether ill with excitement. Nevertheless, he plucked up his courage and went back--to apologize, as one would suppose. Not at all. Scorning all exordium, and without even giving the envoys their titles, he went straight to the point. "The council and the Forty-Eight," he said, "have decided in the name of the citizens that we should signify to you as follows: Inasmuch as they did not consult the prince to inflict the confinement, they shall not consult him to annul it." Verily, a speech worthy of the orator and of those who sent him, similes habent labra lactucas. I wonder what would happen if somebody took it into his head to-day to address a prince in that manner. Considering that all the magistrates of that period were of most mediocre capacity (I am using a mild term), two suppositions are admissible. It was either the intention of the Forty-Eight to make the young duke ridiculous by choosing such delegates, or the three or four intelligent members of the council declined this foolish mission.

The embassy had, however, one result. My father was summoned to the Town Hall, where he was told that he could recover his freedom in consideration of a fine of a hundred marks. He wished to know what fault he had committed, and was told not to "argufy." "Hundred marks or the collar. You can take your choice." As a matter of course my father chose the former, although the only crime that could be imputed to him was his marriage with the niece of Burgomaster Smiterlow. The same mode of procedure was applied to the case of Joachim Rantzow, an honest and honoured citizen, who subsequently became a member of the council.

Shortly after this Councillors Nicholas Rode and Nicholas Bolte came to enjoin Burgomaster Smiterlow, in conjunction with two of his relatives, to sign a document already engrossed and provided with the wax for three seals. According to them it was the only means to end his captivity and to avoid all further and even more serious dangers. In this piece of writing Burgomaster Smiterlow confessed to having been a traitor to the city, a perjurer, guilty of the most infamous conduct, and to have forfeited all his rights. The two councillors made it their special business to paint the situation in the most sombre colours. Terror-stricken and dissolved in tears, the burgomaster's wife implored her husband to accede to the request of these two fanatics until the Lord Himself could come to his aid. Unmanned by all this, Smiterlow asked my father to seal the act with him. "No," exclaimed the latter, "I shall not sign your dishonour." But his two sons-in-law, overcome by the tears of their mother-in-law, affixed their seals. Thereupon the burgomaster, escorted by the two councillors, his two sons-in-law and my father, repaired to the Town Hall. On their way, he went into the St. Nicholas' Church, knelt down in the stall near the great St. Christopher, and said a short prayer.

The council of the Forty-Eight was holding its meeting in the summer council-room. Requested by Christopher Lorbeer to resume his usual seat, Smiterlow refused. "I cannot do so," he said, "after the document I have just signed." Nevertheless, they insisted until he took his seat. Then he addressed them, reminding them that he had travelled in the city's service a hundred and odd days (I have forgotten the exact number, for I was only sixteen years old). "If it can be proved that I have spent one florin unnecessarily, been guilty of one neglect or caused a single prejudice, I am ready to yield all I possess and my life besides. If, on the other hand, I can show my innocence, then can I count upon the same protection as that enjoyed by the other citizens; that is, frequent the churches, cross the bridges, appear in the market place, and attend to my business in all freedom and security." The reply being affirmative, he rose from his seat, wished the council a peaceful term of administration, and, followed by his nearest relatives, went back to his home.

The situation remained the same until 1537. Strong in the consciousness of his own honesty, and leaving the Forty-Eight to govern at their own sweet will, Smiterlow remained perfectly tranquil in his retirement. He was an assiduous churchgoer, and when the weather was fine, took excursions into the country accompanied by his daughters, his sons-in-law, my parents and their family. His jovial disposition delighted them all.

On the other hand, the Forty-Eight were constantly assailed by fear. The success of the war became more and more doubtful, in spite of the sacrifice of hundreds of lives, in spite of the pillaging of the Town Hall, in spite of the enormous sums wasted--thrown into the water, it would be more correct to say. They converted the bells of the city and of the villages into money; all these took the road to Lubeck, where, to our disgrace be it said, the mark of Stralsund can still be seen on a bronze pile-driver. Twice did the citizens, from the highest to the lowest, pay the tax of the hundredth halfpenny on the strength of their oath.

When they saw their power tottering, the Forty-Eight imitated the unjust steward of St. Luke, and compelled the community to confirm, renew and extend the infamous declaration violently dragged from the council of 1522. The new act had apparently some good in it. It enjoined upon the magistrates judicious rules of conduct which, however, were not at all within their competence. In reality, the ancient council acknowledged to have incurred by its resistance a fine which was remitted to them by their magnanimous successors. It took the engagement to favour the cause of the Forty-Eight. No dissension, misunderstanding, accusation or recrimination, whether relating to the past or the present, would in future be tolerated. Any contravention to that effect entailed upon the councillors the loss of their dignities; upon other citizens, the loss of their civic rights; upon women and children, a fine of fifty florins, payable by the father or husband, and going to the fund for public buildings.

That much was decided on the Friday after Candlemas, 1535. Nevertheless, the Forty-Eight kept trembling in their shoes. The very next year witnessed the promulgation of another decree, threatening with the utmost bodily penalty any and every one, young or old, rich or poor, magistrate or simple burgher who should decline the responsibility of the expedition to Denmark, or should influence others on the subject. This act was transcribed sequentially to that of 1535, with the formula: Given under our administration anno and day as above. Hence it was antedated. It was a clumsy trick, for a unique act does not admit of a codicil. But does the ass ever succeed in hiding its ears?

In 1536, on the day of Esto Mihi, Duke Philip married, at the Castle of Torgau, Fräulein Marie, sister of the Duke of Saxony, Johannes Friedrich. The marriage rites were performed by Dr. Martin Luther, who after the ceremony said to the husband: "Gracious prince and lord, Should the event so much desired be somewhat tardy in coming, let not your Highness be discouraged. Saxum means stone, and nothing can be drawn from a rock without time or patience. Your Highness shall be included in my prayers: semen tuum non deficit." The duchess, in fact, gave birth to her first child only about four years later.

The punishment of the wicked and the triumph of the just marched abreast, inclusio unius est exclusio alterius et e contra. Amidst the torments of hell the damned watch the bliss of the happy ones whom they have persecuted on earth. I am bound to insist upon this antithesis while pursuing my narrative. I expect no thanks, for men are so thin-skinned as to cause them to quiver at the slightest touch; and that is the reason why all those who have written on Stralsund, such as Thomas Kantzow, Valentin Eichstedt,^[24] and Johannes Berckmann passed their pens to their successors when they got as far as 1536. I have no desire to flatter or to find fault, but I intend to speak the real truth, however disagreeable it may turn out to be. My sole concern is to preserve the dignity of history. If people will take the trouble to read carefully the authors just named, and especially Berckmann, otherwise the Augustine monk, his impertinent libels will enable them to appreciate the usefulness of the present pages. The approval of honest folk is the only reward I care for; the rest is of no consequence.

It is almost incredible that the Duke of Mecklenburg should have committed the blunder of yielding to the suggestions of Wullenweber, whom all good citizens virtually disavowed. Never was there a more unjust war. In disposing of a country which, on no assumption whatever, could possibly belong to them, the cities caused an incalculable prejudice to the Duke of Holstein, the Lord's anointed, the legitimate, well-beloved, and expected sovereign. He showed great firmness. The leader of a powerful army, and master of its communications by sea and by land, he was fully aware of his superiority to an adversary who, shut up in Copenhagen, only thought of pleasure, hunts and banquets. In spite of his just resentment, magnanimous Christian obtained a victory over himself, and while the surrender of the city was being negotiated, he sent provisions to the Duchess of Mecklenburg, at that time in childbed. This was tantamount to giving her charity. After the retreat of Duke Albrecht, Charles made a triumphal entry into Copenhagen, where he was crowned in 1537, and the presence at the pomp and ceremony of the coronation of the ambassadors of the cities was calculated to give him complete satisfaction. As for the Duke of Mecklenburg, he had learned to his cost the folly of disregarding the words of the Holy Spirit: "My son, fear thou the Lord and the king, and meddle not with them that are given to change: for their calamity shall rise suddenly; and who knoweth the ruin of them both?" (Proverbs xxiv. 21, 22).

At Lubeck the pitiful collapse of the council brought about the reinstatement of the old magistracy. In a spirit of pacification they gave Wullenweber the captaincy of Bergendorf; but Wullenweber, while crossing the territory of the Abbey of Werden, was seized by order of Christopher, bishop of Bremen, who handed him over to his brother, Duke Heindrich of Brunswick. After a cruel captivity at Wolfenbüttel, and in consequence of indictments as numerous as they were grave (especially from Lubeck, represented by his secretary), he was sentenced to death in September, 1537, and his body quartered. At the taking of the fortress of Wardenburg, Duke Christian captured Marx Meyer, his brother Gerard Meyer, and a notorious Danish priest. These three were executed by the sword, quartered, and their bodies shown on the rack to the great satisfaction of the Danish people and the honest Lubeckenaars so long oppressed.

Nicholas Nering, a citizen of those parts, had sold to Johannes Krossen a farm with all its live stock and belongings, but, according to him, he had reserved for himself the foal of a handsome mare, if it should happen to be a colt, and a colt it turned out to be. At the period of its weaning, in 1535, he claimed the young animal. Krossen contested the claim. Thereupon, according to the evidence of his step-son, Peter Klatteville, who was about fifteen, and whose evidence was recorded in the black register of the court, Nering, not to be outdone, mounted his black horse, the lad trotting barefooted by his side, and both went at five a.m. to Krossen's farm. Nering got the colt out of the stables while the youngster kept watch. Nering hid his spoil for three weeks at Schwartz's, at the new mill, and after having made Peter promise to keep the secret on the penalty of the most terrible punishment.